to raise a life {cato}
Oct 8, 2017 22:29:44 GMT -5
Post by Arrows on Oct 8, 2017 22:29:44 GMT -5
Kirito Miristioma
District Eleven
Slumber slips sweetly into her eyes as she drifts away upon the breath of some sweet song. Gently she lays softly secured within his arms while the moon's light lifts across her face. Beyond the window which he stands beside a world whips by with flickering faces full of excitement and joy while his contorts and creases with worry. Here within this shell of glass and gold no dangers shatter the souls of this city's inhabitants. Here each child clings to parents' hands while only wonder for a long life lives inside their eyes. Here safety is secured by birth, in Eleven danger is dealt instead. His hold tenderly tightens as fear furrows a frown into his face, did he bring her perfect and pristine into existence only for her death to be deemed by Snow's demands? His stomach sinks as he searches for hope, it leads him to a door down the hall.
Shaking Kirito's fingers furl around the knob but cannot bring themselves to turn. Murderous monsters remind him of the hate which has been brewing within his closest friend's chest, a hate he has been unable to help. Kirito's eyes fall to his daughter, his heart swells and shatters. From the mists of his mind a figure of familiarity appears running her phantom fingers around the crest of his daughter's precious cheeks. At first no words are spoken and her eyes only inspect the child they've commonly accepted to exist only because of their deaths, it brings another bought of regret and grief to the forefront of Kirito's unstable soul. "She looks like you, lucky her." Circe says with her normal seductively sarcastic smirk.
As Circe creeps away into some surreal space Kirito knows he is unable to venture to, his fingers force themselves to twist. Inside the room the lights lay low as Kirito and his sleeping angel enter through the door way. Expecting Harbinger, Kirito nearly falls to the floor as Key stands silent now by his side. She sighs softly but without a hint of hate, in a sense Kirito can see the longing she holds hidden somewhere within his memory of her. She simply rests her hand reluctantly upon Kirito's shoulder as she leaves letting reality return to his hardened and hazy eyes. They fall upon the figure of Harbinger and sorrow secures itself tightly around Kirito's neck.
For a moment there isn't a single sound, not sob or a question, simple silence. Then the world cruelly crumbles and Kirito shatters alongside it. Every painful piece of past rips and shreds through Kirito's skin. The wicked weight of the crumbling clock tower suffocates him with the remnants of Imp's ashes. The sharp stabs of Wyatt's knives splinter his nerves. Even the wretched wails of Rhyme's final moments merely alive deafen his sense of security to the present. His knees weaken as for the millionth time in his life, Kirito crumbles physically to a seat by Harbinger's side. He can see his daughter in every instance of his own existence, in every moment he broke. How could he bring a child into such cruelty? How could he make 23 who had to die because of him 24? How could he have been so blind?
Tears trickle down the creases of Kirito's cheeks and while his world shakes and shatters his daughter doesn't even shift from her sleep. "What are we going to do Harbinger? Snow's going to kill them, everyone we love. What do we do?"
Shaking Kirito's fingers furl around the knob but cannot bring themselves to turn. Murderous monsters remind him of the hate which has been brewing within his closest friend's chest, a hate he has been unable to help. Kirito's eyes fall to his daughter, his heart swells and shatters. From the mists of his mind a figure of familiarity appears running her phantom fingers around the crest of his daughter's precious cheeks. At first no words are spoken and her eyes only inspect the child they've commonly accepted to exist only because of their deaths, it brings another bought of regret and grief to the forefront of Kirito's unstable soul. "She looks like you, lucky her." Circe says with her normal seductively sarcastic smirk.
As Circe creeps away into some surreal space Kirito knows he is unable to venture to, his fingers force themselves to twist. Inside the room the lights lay low as Kirito and his sleeping angel enter through the door way. Expecting Harbinger, Kirito nearly falls to the floor as Key stands silent now by his side. She sighs softly but without a hint of hate, in a sense Kirito can see the longing she holds hidden somewhere within his memory of her. She simply rests her hand reluctantly upon Kirito's shoulder as she leaves letting reality return to his hardened and hazy eyes. They fall upon the figure of Harbinger and sorrow secures itself tightly around Kirito's neck.
For a moment there isn't a single sound, not sob or a question, simple silence. Then the world cruelly crumbles and Kirito shatters alongside it. Every painful piece of past rips and shreds through Kirito's skin. The wicked weight of the crumbling clock tower suffocates him with the remnants of Imp's ashes. The sharp stabs of Wyatt's knives splinter his nerves. Even the wretched wails of Rhyme's final moments merely alive deafen his sense of security to the present. His knees weaken as for the millionth time in his life, Kirito crumbles physically to a seat by Harbinger's side. He can see his daughter in every instance of his own existence, in every moment he broke. How could he bring a child into such cruelty? How could he make 23 who had to die because of him 24? How could he have been so blind?
Tears trickle down the creases of Kirito's cheeks and while his world shakes and shatters his daughter doesn't even shift from her sleep. "What are we going to do Harbinger? Snow's going to kill them, everyone we love. What do we do?"
